Perfect prom/ Mitchell students celebrate romance and friendship on

Gazette, The (Colorado Springs), May 7, 2002 by Deb Acord

The night is perfect - warm, even for early May in Colorado. The sun sets behind the mountains, taking with it the ordinariness of a Saturday.

Inside the lobby of the Sheraton Hotel, two teen-age girls huddle together. Both wear long, formal dresses of dark, shiny fabric. Helmets of hairspray hold their upswept hair in elaborate twists. The girls hesitate, waiting for the perfect moment on this perfect night; the perfect time to leave the relative safety of the entryway for the grand ballroom inside.

They take deep breaths, get in the elevator and exit on the fourth floor. There, these Mitchell High School students disappear into a sea of several hundred well-coiffed, well-dressed, well-perfumed bodies for a "Perfect Moment" - the theme of Prom Night 2002.

In today's high school universe of flared jeans and T-shirts, tennis shoes and hooded sweatshirts, black-tie formal is unfamiliar territory. But prom is a ritual, and like all rituals, it has certain common denominators that transcend not only place, but time.

On this night, so perfect in Colorado, thousands of other students in hundreds of other U.S. cities are engaged in the same ritual - dressing up in the same gowns and tuxedos; exchanging the same boutonnieres and wrist corsages; dancing to the same hip-hop and rock music in hotel ballrooms and high school gymnasiums; treating each other with the formality that comes with formal clothes.

At the Sheraton, about 300 teens arrive in groups of two, three, four. The girls' dresses are a bouquet of colors and textures - pale fairy-princess pinks and ice blues and bride-worthy whites; sparkling Las Vegas-style golds and silvers; sultry reds and blacks. The boys' tuxedos and straight-lapeled suits are mostly black, with an occasional stand-out in white.

Just outside the door to the darkened ballroom, Markeya Fultz, her sister Shenisha, and their friend Niquita Grayer hesitate. They're all nerves, taking pictures with point-and-shoot cameras and chatting excitedly with friends as they walk by. They chose different gowns - dark for the Fultz sisters, and white and flowing for Grayer - but they all have lavish, manicured fingernails and upswept hair with intricate braids and curls. As the night progresses, this trio will lose their nervousness and frequent the dance floor.

Researchers at Emory University's Center on Myth and Ritual in American Life write that "Rituals include any repeated behaviors that anchor people and give meaning to their experiences."

The world has changed in the decades since proms began. It's faster. Scarier. More complicated.

But at the prom, the outside world melts away and those comfortable rituals take over. Inside are pretty dresses; glistening ice sculptures; dance floors that fill during slow songs and get rowdy during fast ones.

Some things have changed. More teens go to prom without dates, or in large groups. Girls dance with girls and wear dresses that might have gotten them arrested in decades past.

But that's just cosmetic. Now, as in years past, prom is a about carving out a special time, bonding with schoolmates and creating memories.

Senior Heather Rallo stands out in a green and black corset-and- netting ensemble made unique with black feathery wings and tomato- red upswept hair. She calls her look "gothic fairy princess," and thinks prom is "nice."

"It's OK, and a part of being a senior," she says. "But it's not like I'll put it on my resum or anything."

Her date, Collin Estes, on his best date behavior, nods and smiles. "It's important," he says. "It's a tradition."

Prom has always been about the music. Live bands once ruled, but today, they've been replaced by DJs with light shows. At Mitchell's prom, Cypress Hill, B2K and House of Pain blast from the speakers.

"I came to get down. So get out your seats and jump around. Jump around. Jump up, Jump up, and get down."

Hands shoot up. Shoulders twist. Faces glisten with sweat. The guys shed their jackets; the girls throw off their cruel shoes. They came to dance. They love to dance.

But they are dressed up, so it's different. This isn't your after- the-football-game dance.

Megan Meyer, petite and clothed in white with tiny beads, calls prom "a really big deal." But, she says, "It's probably a bigger deal for girls than for the guys. It takes all day to get ready. And it takes months to plan."

Meyer saw her dress in store a month and a half ago, she knew it was "the one."

Meyer's date, Jerrod Bettis, says guys know the ritual. "You go to Genghis (tux rental shop), take a shower, put the gel in your hair. You're ready."

After about four hours, Mitchell's 2002 prom is winding down. The girls are comfortable in their gowns and formal hairstyles, and have lost the urge to readjust a sagging bust line or an errant curl. The guys have found their style on the dance floor and located the snack tables.

Nicole Percy is getting used to the title of "prom queen." Percy hadn't even planned on going to this year's prom. "But then I found out I was on the prom court, so here I am!"